Why Don't You Do Right?

A/N: I hope you all have a safe and SEXY Halloween. Enjoy my dark, twisted fantasies.-QueenOfTheNile

*

I wanted to be at home with my wife instead of this corporate bullshit Halloween party. It was mandatory the newly promoted partners attend to mingle and socialize with the senior partners, but I did not understand why the formal introductions could not have just waited until I could meet them the following Monday when they weren't drunk off their asses over the usual bagel and cream cheese continental breakfast the firm hosted before the big strategy meeting on the Williams vs. Harrods case. I needed to be at home with my wife, Ariel, to work out the kinks in our marriage. Lately, I have not been home as much as I should have and been pushing her to the wayside due to work and a full caseload. I was Lake and Thompson's first African-American partner in over thirty years- the first to be of full African descent- and damn proud of it. I had worked my ass off all throughout law school, graduated with outstanding markings and honors, did a lot of pro-bono work to get name recognition and status, and worked for the petty District Attorney's office before finding my way to Lake and Thompson. After working with Lake and Thompson for eight years, giving them outstanding results and an 89 percent success rate, I was promoted and it was highly publicized. Because of my newfound success, it caused me to take on more daunting, strenuous cases that either had me coming home in the wee hours of the morning, if at all; leaving my wife to sleep alone in a cold, lonely bed until she became too fed up to handle it any longer.

I never intended to neglect her and my state of mind was never intentional, but it caused her to drift and wander into another man's bed for a night. I found out when she told me she was pregnant by the man and that she deeply regretted the one-night-stand because her heart truly rested with mine. Since then, our marriage has not been the same and I could not help but retain some of the responsibility. Maybe if I had been a little more mindful and occasionally dick down my wife like a normal husband would do after a hard day's work, the growing baby in her stomach would bear resemblance to me and not the Asian man next door.

I took a sip of my cognac and coke, swirling it lazily around my glass. I scanned the room. Co-workers that are usually uptight and stuffy were half-naked, intoxicated, and lust ridden as the office tramps found their way into the pants of a few of my fellow partners. A friend of mine, Kennedy, was in the middle of the dance floor, shirtless, covered in candy corn, gummy-bears, and sugar cubes, with a witch's hat on doing the Macarena with his long-term love interest, Sarah Marshall. My boss, William Lake, was royally perched up against a corner in his office getting a blow job from an intern- though he thought he was inconspicuous but from the angle I was standing, I got quite the show- as a few of my other colleagues were either downing shots of Don Julio or grinding their sex hungry loins against one another. Even Stella, the Cambodian cleaning lady that spoke only in short sentences, was 'pussy popping on a handstand' against Robert, the South American janitor. I cringed at the thought; knowing once Monday rolled around, either no one would remember this night, or they would claim to have forgotten.

I took one last sip of my drink, placing it gently against the table. I reached inside the chip bowl and grabbed a handful of chips, taking out my phone. There was a missed call from Ariel and Morgan. I smiled at the thought. Morgan was another one of my colleagues and a good friend of mine. She and her fiancée had just broken things off due to infidelity issues on his behalf and with my wife doing the Russian tango in the neighbor's bed, we connected greatly since we were suffering through the same emotional bullshit heart ache. As much as I loved my wife with every fiber of my being, since her scandal, I could not envision her in the same light as I used to. It was not that I considered her to be impure or some trollop, but I often found myself unable to even touch her because the thoughts of another man kissing where only my lips should ever kiss would fill my mind as dirty thoughts of his penis inside of my wife would drive me close to insanity.

Morgan, on the latter, was a very attractive woman. She was twenty-eight, African-American and of Mexican heritage, a curvaceous, voluptuous beauty with large breasts, and a stunning intellect that made my dick hard when we discussed politics. I realized back in college that I was a sapiosexual and that a woman's physical features only amounted to half of the attraction I needed to get me fully interested in romantically pursuing a woman. The biggest turn on for me was an intelligent woman that was not only opinionated, but also a feisty little minx that wouldn't take shit from anyone. Morgan was exactly that. Ariel was a bit dense, submissive, and...normal. We married young right out of high-school because our own little pregnancy scare that turned out to be false, but stuck with our marriage because neither one of us wanted to be another stereotypical black couple divorced. I sent Morgan a text, asking her where she was and if she was still planning on coming to the Halloween party. She sent one back asking my location and I told her posted against the snack table. There was no possible way I was going to be caught dead on the dance floor next to a witch, a giant banana, and an Adult baby.

I took out my phone again, hoping for another text but the screen was bare. I poured myself another drink. Maybe something came up. Morgan and I were discussing Halloween costumes for the office party yesterday afternoon over coffee. She was uncertain as to what she wanted to be- if she was coming at all due to her divorce proceedings earlier that morning- and I told her I was coming as James Bond. All I needed was to put a red rose in the right suit breast pocket of one of my many tuxedos and I was James Bond. I was never a Halloween person due to my religious beliefs I had since I was a child, but I took pleasure in the spirit of the holiday. I wasn't one of those Christians that felt as if Halloween was "The Devil's Birthday" or some satanic day where the worshiping of demons is no longer condemned. Instead, I just chose to not celebrate a day that had not only religious and historical questionability, but it also pissed me off when fucking teenagers would egg my car and grown men found it socially acceptable to prey on young women who dressed as sluts the only day of the year where they could not get any flack for it.

The lights grew a deep shade of crimson as the music simmered down into a low, solo bass guitar from center stage behind a large velvet curtain. The DJ had stopped spinning, dancing coming to a halt as all eyes became glued to the appearing jazz band. There was a pianist, a bass guitarist, a trumpeter, and a percussionist seated as a lone light illuminated the four, a one magenta one kissing the corner of the large velvet curtain. A familiar tune began to play.

"You had plenty money, in 1922...You let other women make a fool of you..." And then Morgan appeared, stretching a single leg from behind the curtain before it revealed a stunning 'Jessica Rabbit'. It took me back to my first childhood crush; the one I had on Jessica Rabbit when I first saw her in the movie Who framed Roger Rabbit? back when I was a boy. I was only eight when I laid on the buxom beauty, but old enough to understand that even though she was a cartoon, that was what a woman was supposed to look like. "Why don't you do right, like some other men do?... Get out of here and get me some money too."

Her voice was angelic, her body majestic as the long, red, sequin evening gown that graced her curves outlined her body flawlessly. Her large 42DD breasts were perfectly perched as her impeccably shaped ass protruded effortless; the deep plunge in the back of her dress that stopped at the crook of her backside showing her infamous dragon tattoo that ran from her left shoulder blade down to her right pinky toe. All the men in the room gravitated towards the stage as Morgan began to shimmy against a neighboring wall; combing her auburn hair with her purple gloved hands, biting her sinfully red lips with a soft moan. I began to salivate.

"You're sittin' there and wonderin' what it's all about....You ain't got no money, they will put you out..."

My boss, William Lake, was the first person to get the conveted attention from 'Jessica'. Morgan had placed her sheathed nipples against the lips of Mr. Lake, draping her hair over to the side of her head as she leaned back. A single red stiletto became rested upon his shoulder as she pushed his chair back, pulling his tie completely off- much to his pleasure. She hiked the slit of her dress higher to expose the heart-shaped garter she had laced around her luscious thigh. Mr. Lake begged for more. Kennedy was next, getting a small, yet sensual, lap dance from Morgan as she carefully began to unzip her dress to reveal an equally stunning red glittered bustier, matching boy shorts, and garters. Kennedy helped slink the fabric down to pool against her ankles, playfully kissing and biting her thighs as he had the most difficult time keeping his hands to himself. He went to touch the contours of her spine, being knocked away by a fast-acting hand and a wink. There were a series of wolf whistles, howls, and claps; urging her to continue to enchanting vex.

"Why don't you do right, like some other men do?... Get out of here and get me some money too..."

One of the male interns, Malcolm, hid behind Kennedy, gawking at Morgan before she made her way over to the poor boy. 'Jessica' carefully pulled 'Tarzan' and undid his loin cloth, revealing an unwavering erection that she happily massaged through the confines of his tight briefs. Malcolm damn near exploded against her touch, sweating as the lights grew an even darker shade of red, the mood of the room becoming more lustful. I watched attentively as Morgan slid her plump ass against the tip of Malcolm's dick, gyrating her hips against his crotch as she ran a single finger over her left nipple. Malcolm's hand became embedded upon her hips, pulling her closer to his touch but she pulled away, leaving him devastated. "If you had prepared twenty years ago...You wouldn't be a-wanderin' from door to door..."

Mr. Morris, the fax guy, reached out his left hand; twirling 'Jessica' slowly against the smooth rhythm of the bass guitar. 'Jessica' had grabbed his Fred Flinstone getup, yanking him towards her as she extended her right leg upward to lay against his left shoulder. More howling, wolf whistles, and displays of affection. Mr. Morris began to kiss her ankle delicately, running a single hand against her supple skin before planting against the crevice of her womanhood. 'Jessica' licked her lips as he deftly circled his index and middle finger along the thin fabric of her boyshorts against her wet sex. 'Jessica' moaned, embracing 'Fred' as she grew closer; rubbing against his obvious tented pole with her right knee. A kiss on the cheek was all he was given before she sashayed across the room.

"Why don't you do right, like some other men do?... Get out of here and get me some money too..."

I took a sip of my forgotten, watered down drink, eyes glazed with desire as Morgan made her way towards me. The magenta light was now posted up against the two of us, hidden longing now center stage as she rubbed herself against my tuxedo jacket. She removed the red rose, placing it in between her teeth before she painstakingly undid all of the buttons to my dress shirt; revealing my heavily toned torso and valley of abs. She let out a small gasp before biting her bottom lip, running her gloved hands against my stomach before she settled against my belt buckle. "I fell for your jivin' and I took you in..."

My breathing grew ragged; her palms rickety as she wistfully undid my belt loop and unzipped my pants. Our eyes never unlocked with one another. She took a handful of me through my boxer briefs and her eyes widened, a sinister smile creeping against her lips while her hands slid inside my underwear. She seemed incredibly pleased. "Why don't you do right, like some other men do?"

'Jessica' gave a corporeal glance over her shoulder, giving a small wink to her captivated audience filled with ravaged hounds of men and jealous catty women. She whispered something in my ear I could not quite make out before placing a deep, passionate kiss upon my lips. Our tongues intertwined as my hands roamed her goddess of a body; resting against her plump ass that I wanted to desperately fuck. "Get out of here and get me some money too." She pulled away, winding herself downward towards the evident bulge in my pants. With a single movement, she released me; revealing my thick, eight inch cock that beautifully contrasted against her caramel-complexioned skin. She wrapped her lips around the tip, sucking gently before bobbing her head lower against my shaft. She placed a gloved hand against my heavy sack, massaging it gently with the rhythm she had set in place to match her tune. I leaned back further against the table, damn near losing my balance from growing weak in the knees. Her touch was like liquid fire. I've had head before, but never any this fucking spectacular. 'Jessica' carefully hummed as she sucked in sync with the pumps of his wrist. She came up for air one time before she commenced to deep throat my dick. She never once deviated her gaze from mine and it only turned me on even more. I caressed her hair, running strands of auburn in between my fingers for added measure before palming the back of her head to meet my sudden thrusts. I was so enticed by the pleasure that I no longer cared that I was being sucked off in public...in front of my boss at that. She pulled away slowly, a single trail of saliva mixed with pre-cum connecting the both of us before she began lapping the underside of my wood.

My thrusts grew hungrier, lusting to be deeper against her throat. She began to gag but enjoyed the sadistic pleasure of her pain. Her sucking grew harder as my dick became embedded deeper against her tonsils. I pulled out several times to maintain my stamina and prolong my orgasm, but I was nearing that blissful satisfaction I desperately needed since becoming partner. She gaged a bit more before completely pulling me out of her mouth to suck and nibble on my balls; carefully gnawing at them before showering them with their personal amount of attention with her expertly skilled tongue. She slowly stoked my dick as I tea bagged her sweet, innocent little mouth, occasionally sucking the tip before swirling her tongue alongside the edges. I wanted nothing more than to turn her over, rip off those damn fairy shorts, and fuck her sweet pussy sideways until she begged for me to stop. I would begin to growl, my dick growing as hard as cast iron on a cool winter morning.

Then suddenly, she stopped; turning to her left to meet the cloak of night encasing the entranceway. There was a figure standing in the doorway, eyes widened with a mixture of fear and sorrow before shielding itself from the prying eyes of the room. I heard the harsh clack of heels escalate down the long corridor of the office before the loud, harsh buzzard of the elevator rang throughout the hallway. I turned to look at 'Jessica' and noticed that her little performance had turned an office Halloween party into a flat out costume orgy.

"Why don't you do right, like some other men do?"

I lifted her up, turning her around to lay her forcefully against the snack table. I pushed and knocked down that damn bowl of chips that had kept me company for the past two hours and threw my drink into oblivion. Hastily, I glided down her boyshorts and tossed them over my shoulder, revealing a nicely shaven, clearly aroused 'rabbit' at my disposal. I ran my index finger against her exposed clit, circling the beautiful nub with my thumb. She let out a deep moan, undoing the metal clasps of her bustier to expose those heavenly breasts I have grown to adore. I allowed 'Jessica' to grab my member and guide it home before I began my sacred rhythm. The band had long stopped playing, the room now filled with erotic moans of sex and gluttony that we only added on to. I had 'Jessica' in traditional missionary position to get my first off before I fully went in on her delicate flower for round two. I allowed her some time to adjust to my rather large width before picking up pace, beating against her sopping wet heat like hands to an African bass drum. She grabbed hold to the sides of the table, screaming my name like a mantra before arching her back in climax against the metal sheet of my chest. I leaned down to kiss her one last time before I stroked her body, releasing my seed against the outer lips of her kiss to run down towards the table. She reached down to lap up the cream from the folds of her sex; erotically swirling its unique flavor against the skin of her lips.